


water in a desert

by thundersnowstorm



Series: from what i've tasted of desire [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ASOIAF Rare Pair Week, F/F, Femslash Friday, Sexual Tension, using politics as an excuse to bang ur gf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 09:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17958056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thundersnowstorm/pseuds/thundersnowstorm
Summary: Dornish-Ironborn relations have never been this good.





	water in a desert

**Author's Note:**

> Day six of asoiafrarepairs week - Dorne/ ~~Beyond the Wall~~

The sun wakes Arianne, streaming in through the gauzy curtains. She rolls over, but even pulling her sheet over her head doesn't block the light. Groaning, she shoves the sheets away and blinks her eyes open.

Beside her, the sheets are crumpled and empty, leaving a noticeable absence in the bed. Arianne frowns and sits up. She had not gone to bed alone, had not expected to awake alone.

A sound by the far end of the room makes her turn. She grins. Asha Greyjoy stands over the basin on the vanity, washing her face. She is clad in little more than breeches and an unlaced shirt that hangs loosely about her wiry frame. Arianne bites her lip.

"Come back to bed," she calls, voice low with promise. Asha laughs, a full, throaty sound that reverberates down Arianne's spine.

"The _Black Wind_ sets sail within the hour," she reminds Arianne, though her eyes roam down to where the thin linen sheet does nothing to disguise the curves beneath. Arianne is naked but for the sheet, a fact that Asha knows very well.

"That's a whole hour from now," Arianne tells her.

Asha wipes a washcloth down her face. A stray droplet of water makes its way down the curve of her neck, stopping at a dark, bruise-colored mark by her collarbone. "You are a very tempting woman, you know that?"

Arianne's lips curl upwards. "Oh, I am well aware."

"Dorne is lucky to have a negotiator as skilled as yourself," Asha comments, leaning back against the vanity. Her shirt falls open a bit, revealing a hint of the curves of her pale breasts. No one would ever call the Lady of the Iron Islands a beauty, but there is something about the jagged angles of her face, the self-contained way she moves, that give her a striking sort of charm. With her mussed hair and loose breeches, she looks like some fearsome, dashing pirate character from a Braavosi drama.

Arianne shifts, and Asha's eyes follow the sliding movement of the sheet across her body. "Oh, I always get my way," she says.

Asha pushes off the vanity suddenly, crossing the room in a few strides. She stops just short of the bed, where Arianne has leaned back on her elbows, looking up expectantly.

She leans in, mouth close enough for Arianne to feel the gentle puff of breath against her face. She doesn't move. Asha's hand brushes her cheek, skin tingling wherever they touch. Arianne closes her eyes.

Asha chuckles. "You're quite pretty like this," she says, and backs away.

Arianne throws a pillow at her. It misses. "Bloody Ironborn," she curses, and Asha just laughs.

"You're too trusting, princess," she says, and the way she says _princess_ makes Arianne want to drag her back to bed for the rest of the day.

Instead she just flops back onto the rest of her pillows to watch Asha finish dressing. "When will you be back?"

"Will you miss me, princess?"

Arianne scoffs. "Don't fool yourself. You make for a decent bed partner, that's all." More than decent, but Asha would be insufferable if she admitted it.

"Why thank you, you're quite decent yourself." Asha laces up the front of her jerkin and Arianne shivers, remembering the drag of those calloused fingers against her overheated flesh. She kicks the last of the sheets away, letting the warm sunlight wash over her. "In all seriousness, when will you be back? There is still a trade deal to finalize." A trade deal that requires the presence of her father and what seems like half of Dorne's lords and ladies, but there are few other ways for the Lady of the Iron Islands and the Princess-heir of Dorne to meet.

"We'll see," says Asha, coy. "There is much to get done back home."

There is a bowl of blood oranges on Arianne's bedside table. She reaches over for one and begins peeling it, the bursts of citrusy scent tickling her nose. "Are your lords still giving you trouble?" she asks.

Asha groans. "Must we speak of them?" There is a touch of a plaintive whine to her voice. "It is not unlikely that I will be returning to find yet another lord has decided he has a better claim to my title just because he has a cock."

"Inheritance laws north of the Red Mountains are such a farce," sniffs Arianne. "Perfectly capable women passed over for their rightful titles in favor of their infant brothers. Ridiculous."

Asha grabs a brush and starts passing it roughly through her short hair. She rolls her eyes at Arianne. "Ah yes, tell me more about how enlightened you Dornish are, _princess_."

"Gladly, _my lady,_ " says Arianne, biting delicately at an orange slice. Asha stares at her lips for a little too long and Arianne waggles her eyebrows. Asha snorts.

"I wouldn't mind Dornish inheritance law," she admits. "But that's it. Give me a good crew and a sturdy ship, that's all I need. None of this silk and finery you Dornish seem to love."

"You love me in my finery," Arianne says. "What was it you said about the red dress?"

Asha's fingers still on her boots' laces. "That I wanted to tear it off you with my teeth," she murmurs, lost in memory.

Arianne sets her unfinished orange aside and stands up. "What else did you say about it?" Her voice is casual, but the way Asha is looking at her is anything but.

"I said a great many things that night," says Asha, and her eyes have gone dark with lust.

Arianne walks over to her, slow, purposeful. "Perhaps remind me of them?" Her fingers ghost across Asha's jawline like a promise.

"The _Black Wind_ leaves in an hour," repeats Asha, but the words come out with less conviction this time.

"You're their captain," says Arianne. "Your ship leaves when you say it leaves."

"You're a bloody menace, princess," says Asha, and smashes their lips together.

Dorne and the Iron Islands, Arianne muses, have quite a bit to offer each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Human brain: Asha/ Arianne is a truly random pairing  
> Monkey brain: pirate gf. princess gf. sexy.
> 
> Edit for this fic is [here](https://thundersnowstorm.tumblr.com/post/183141716051/water-in-a-desert-dornish-ironborn-relations).


End file.
